We went to the park no less than 3 times yesterday so I really don’t have much else to share with you other than another slide story.
Anyway, yesterday for supper we wandered around Tulip Time and found some yummy treats. Reagan enjoyed sharing her Daddy’s sweet & sour chicken. After we had eaten our fill, we headed back home. When we go on walks, we always stop at a park for little Ray to run around and get some exercise. Otherwise, all that fried food will go STRAIGHT to her hips! As Hubby and I stood there surveying the “park scene”, I commented to him that THIS was precisely why Reagan and I liked to go the park in the middle of the day when there are NO other children around!
That evening, the playground was filled with kids - mostly older kids. Mostly kids TOO OLD TO BE ON A PLAYGROUND. But I digress. Reagan just wanted to go in the baby swings - the ones occupied by 4 year olds - and go down the slide one time - the one overrun but 10 year olds. Right. I made the mistake of thinking these children would see a little kid (A VERY LITTLE KID) and sorta, ya know, not run her over. Reagan climbs the stairs and stands at the top of the slide, where one of the bullybrats stands, facing the opposite direction. Essentially, it’s a face off. Reagan, tiny little Reagan, tilts her head way way way up and looks at the bullybrat with these big eyes, the ones that are asking if she can please go down the slide. Bullybrat doesn’t notice. So I watch her stand patiently, but firmly, in place. Waiting for bullybrat to MOVE. The whole time I’m near panic-mode because bullybrat is dangerously close to knocking her over or pushing her down the stairs. And trust me, if she did, she was going to GET IT. Bullybrat’s parents were nowhere in sight (no, of course not) but I would have found them and well, they would have gotten it too. Do I sound angry? Because I was. Still am maybe. So Hubby sees my panic and has a level of his own welling up inside. He begins making his way to little Reagan, ready to defend his tiny girl still waiting patiently for bullybrat to MOVE. But I can’t wait for him to cross the bridge and crawl through a tunnel, so I tap bullybrat on the leg from my ground position and say, “Could my daughter go down the slide one time. She just wants to go one time!” Bullybrat looks at me and mumbles, “Okay”, clearly not happy with me. So bullybrat moves and by now Daddy has come to his daughter’s side and assists her with getting into slide riding position. And down the slide Reagan goes, giggling all the way. At the bottom, I scoop her up and I turn to bullybrat. “Thank you,” I said as I looked her in the face. She paused, shrugged and said, “You’re welcome.” She redeemed herself slightly.
I have a real problem with unsupervised children. Maybe its because I grew up on a farm and when we went to the park, Mom and/or Dad were always with us. We never went anywhere without one or both of our parents. Which apparently is not true of kids that live in town. I wonder how their parents function without knowing exactly where their kids are at all times. It isn’t as though I plan on suffocating Reagan. But I just can’t subscribe to this theory of “kids on a playground are safe and sound so I don’t have to watch them”.
Lesson learned. We won't go again in the evening.